The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1887-05-20
In another instant he was gone.

one passed. through the gafuell-WaIk Ia
to the pleasant porch, and stood a moment
before the open parlor-window, where an
old gentleman rested in an easy chair.
sit is a lovely night, father" she said:
"but | will 20 to my room, | believe. !
an very weary tonight. Good night
"Good night, my daughter
And Margaret went as usual with her
stately step to her chamber-door; but once
within its solitude, and the proud resolute
spirit was bowed in bitter sorrow,
How she had loved this man! And her
not vent loudly, and the tears rushed down
the proud beautiful face. Must she thus
condemn him, and was there no hope fol
him?
lie was a student of medicine, studying
of late with her father, and an eager, apt
student. He had come into the quiet life
of this girl as a bright sunbeam. His
quick active intellect aroused her from the
ordinary routine of her usual life.
His tastes harmonized with her own, and
she had given him her heart entirely.
Then, one day. she learned that the fatal
habit of stimulating his energies when ex-
hausted by study or fatigue had become
a necessity to him, and the interview we
have just related was the decision at which
she had arrived.
She was a girl of no ordinary character.
Her clear good sense, with the intimate
knowledge of her friends life, taught her
to doubt the influence she could WELD
against the triumphal Juggernaut, whose
victims can never be numbered.
Harry Norton left the village for the dis
fractions of a life in a great city. Now
and then news came of him as clever sue
cessful practitioner, accompanied with
doubtful surmises as to certain changes in
his habits of life-vaguc speeches, mean
ing, perhaps, much or little.
Margaret's life flowed quietly on; her
father, yielding to the inirmities of old
age, demanded her care and attention.
Perhaps close observers might detect a
shade of sadness now and then in those
clear grey eyes, but she was not one Of
those who live solely for their own pleas
ure, and no one in all the village was more
relied upon in sorrow or trouble as a kind
sympathizer then she.
A young clergyman who settled in the
parish was soon observant of this strong,
self-reliant nature-this tender daughter
and kind friend. Margaret was not DOOM
to live n solitary life. She found much to
esteem in Mr.. Eldon, and at last much to
love; and one bright spring morning she
stood with him at the village altar as his
bride.
As she entered the carriage a packet was
given to her, and opening if. she found a
wedding gift-a brooch formed of a large
pure pearl, finely set, and a letter.
The letter was as follows:
MARGAREr-You are a pearl among all
others in my memory, and | beg you to ae-
cept this symbol of yourself as a gift from
an old friend. You were right, Margaret
mt man, knowing himself a slave to
intemperance, should ever tempt q woman
to share its curse. What can write you
of my life? Only that there are times
when | am mad-when no reason remains
to me-and then | come out Of this valley
of the shadow of death, and | see you,
strong, pure, so far away from me. Your
words come back to me-, and | know you
were right when you choose to walk apart
from one so unworthy. Do not believe
that do not struggle, but a power strong
- IL. 7 --.4.ol- 49, aon ~n,Asnn ia a,xr
happiness. and I know that | was once
blessed with your love-that my true self
was once dear to YOU. But purity, recti-
tude, were dearer to you than aught else,
and he who failed OF these'could not hold
possession of your heart. That one worthy
to be your guide, your staff through life
has won you, awakens no selfish feeling in
my heart. | have said that | CAM do
rejoice in your happiness"
Happy bride though she was, tears filled
her eyes. She pitied him very tenderly,
and pited him all the more because of her
own happiness.
The years rolled quietly on with her;
children were given to her love and care.
In the pleasant village home where her
childish days were passed, she lived The
contented life of a happy wife and mother.
1t was towards the close of a bright sum-
mer day that Mr.. Eldon came slowly up
the garden walk, and Margaret, fastening
with tender welcome to greet him, saw at
once, from his face, that he bore unwonted
"Margaret, " he said, Il wish yon would
with me to see a dying man who
wishes to bid you farewell. You have
lever forgotten Harry Norton. 1t is he"
1t was not calmly she could think of the
interview. Her hands trembled as she
tied the strings of her bonnet; tears filled
her eyes. and she leaned heavily on the
arm of her husband as he related to her
the story of his IN to the house
where Harry Norton, feeling his days
numbered, had come to bid her farewell
to die.
The s~etting-sun was clarifying all things;
the distant mountains and rivers were bath
ed in golden light. They entered the
chamber of the dying man. The same
atmosphere filled it; from the open
window came tine soft summer air, the glad
notes of singing birds.
"'You are as good as ever, Margaret,
Harry said family, ''to come; but | felt
chat if you wished me God speed, ! might